Images
by Diana Obelisk
Summary: Anita Heathers is young, but she knows what she wants. But how can she survive when the only thing she wants is so far out of reach? Crossover of more than D&D and Quantum Leap. All in disclaimers. Sorry.
1. The DungeonMaster

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dungeons and Dragons. I just like it. A lot. And yeah, maybe the DungeonMaster too. Stop laughing. NOW!**

1—The DungeonMaster

It started when her father brought the old Dungeons and Dragons cartoon DVDs home from the library. As soon as they had watched the first episode, Anita was hooked. From then on, she stored all of the characters into the matrix she had, bringing them out to talk with them from one time to another.

Almost immediately, her favorite was the DungeonMaster, who she quickly developed a fondness for. When she first met him, she had smiled instantly. She found herself drawn to his eyes. His voice, too, was beautiful.

He, though, wouldn't have cared for her, she knew. And then there was the age gap…she was only eleven.

Soon she was watching the episodes on her own, and it was on episode fifteen—or episode two of season two—'The Treasure of Tardos,' that she realized how deeply she felt for him. She kept pausing, rewinding, and playing again the scene where first Demodragon was destroyed, and then DungeonMaster's show of compassion…

And his eyes. They pulled her in until she almost had her face pressed against the screen, and she realized that in her Nafaric form, she was eleven hundred years old. And lately she and DungeonMaster had been getting along a little…too well.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

Anita started. She hadn't realized he had been there. Looking around quickly, making sure she was alone so that no one else would be bothered by her talking to herself, she replied, "Well…nothing, really."

"That is a lie, my friend," he rebuked her.

"True. I was thinking about…you," Anita said with a sigh. DungeonMaster cocked his head slightly, stepping just a bit closer.

"And what were you thinking about me?" he asked quietly.

Anita licked her lips nervously. Her heart was racing. How to tell him? And then the words were coming out, unstoppable, on a mission. They _would_ be said. "I love you!"

DungeonMaster smiled at the rushed words. "That's oddly convenient, my dear," he told her. Another step closer. Anita's mind replayed again and again. Her breath caught when she found herself kneeling in front of him. She wasn't aware of moving, but suddenly a hand was on her face.

She closed her eyes, ready for whatever would come. A derisive laugh? A sarcastic comment? But, no, she was aware of breath on her face, and then she was being kissed. The shock of it very nearly made her eyes open, but she got over it quickly. She reflected, as her hand tangled in his long hair, that they had been in a relationship of sorts. Nothing had happened because…well, he was so far down, and she so far up.

"_But this really is nice,"_ Anita thought. Lucky for them, both breathed through their nose. A sound from the bedroom broke them apart. Anita sprang back up onto her chair, playing the video, as her father came out sleepily. Her cheeks burnt.

And that night, more kisses followed. And that was is. Anita enjoyed the…purity of it.

It wasn't long before the next person came along. Now that they had started…

**A/N: Each chapter will have a different personality, and the first eight-yes, eight-will each be centered around a different romance.**

**I hope you like this, I hope you don't hate this, I hope readers don't know who I am or who Anita is, I...blah blah blah blah**

**And review. If I got stuff wrong, lemme know! I know there're probably going to be people reading this, so read!**


	2. Alfred Callivichi

**I do not own _Quantum Leap_ or _Dungeons and Dragons_, but I would like to. Anyone got 12 million dollars I can keep?**

Alfred Callivichi

She watched _Quantum Leap _with her family. Just her luck to slowly fall in love with another guy…and one with such a dirty mind, too!

But DungeonMaster didn't mind, so long as he was allowed to have others. And Al soon showed up. Once he got to know her, he felt as if Beth had faded away. He loved Beth still—that would _never_ change—but suddenly he thought that maybe, somehow, he had gotten a second chance.

And Anita was thrilled. Al was magnificent—she could tell as he started to fall for her, as the perversity quickly fell off, replaced by tender, sincere moments. She fell in love quickly, and the two soon slept together, though as Anita was still only eleven, nothing happened. Al would have worried about the age difference if Anita had not explained that she, indeed, was a Nafar, and as such, aged as a Nafar did.

In the world where both existed, she was over a thousand. But she aged—as all Nafar would—in one hundred years as a human would in one.

So nothing impeded them. Again, she proposed, as with the DungeonMaster, and he agreed.

She moved to another apartment, and she was married with both Al and DungeonMaster simultaneously. They exchanged vows, and Anita, unable to see in their world clearly enough to make or buy a dress, wore her own black dress—it was the only one she owned, but she looked beautiful enough. By now, she was twelve in her world, but twelve hundred in theirs. Her smile had brightened but darkness, the two noticed, entered one day. It left, though, and they thought that was the end.

The marriage was simple, quiet—the three of them and a judge. No need for ceremony. No need for a big hurry. Plus, Anita barely knew anyone in the world where she was married. Nothing could stop her smile.

She didn't understand when she saw Al, talking to Sam about second chances in love—or, more so, the lack thereof. She cried when he finally lost Beth for good, simply from hearing the tears choking his voice. Al sat under her so she could be in his lap—the knowledge of it was close enough for her, and she knew what it would be like. Images, he felt, were as close as she could get.

When she heard what he said, he knew he had lost her.

"_I've lost him…"_ Anita thought.

The episode was over, Al was gone, and she had to go to bed alone. It was cold by herself, and she didn't feel safe without his arms around her. Not anymore.

"You think you don't get another chance. That's fine!" Anita yelled. "So I'm just another wife to be used and thrown away!"

Al shook his head, tears in his eyes, thinking, _"Oh, please! Please don't do this to me again, oh God! Stop! I beg of you! Leave her with me—I can't lose her, too!"_

"It's not like that!" he tried to tell her, but she snorted.

"Isn't it?" she said softly. "Go. Just…go."

He left, and Anita saw how sadly he did so. _"God,"_ she thought. _"God, if you're up there, if you're watching this, please, help me! Don't let me lose him! I can't live like that! I lose them every time I can't see them, every time they catch me into an embrace I can't feel! Don't put me through this hell!"_

When she woke, there were three roses on her bed, in that world, with a note telling her to show up the next day on the canal path, if she wanted him back. Anita lay back down and slept soundly.

But the next day, it rained. And she was kept indoors like a sick child. She sent out a message, hoping to get to him. _"Please! Please, Al, if you can hear me, give me just one more day!"_

And then she left the next day, and when she approached the site the not had specified, she saw nothing. She sat on the grass, her heart breaking slowly.

Footsteps approached. Footsteps, though, that she could not hear. They were too heavy, too far apart to be DungeonMaster.

Grass crunched slightly as someone sat next to her. An arm was put around her shoulders. Anita's head snapped up, but she didn't dare look behind her.

"I love you, you know," Al said.

Anita had to choke back a relieved sob as she said, "I love you, too."

They sat in silence for long minutes before Anita stood, turning and holding her hand out to Al. They both stood, and they went home, Anita's face finally peaceful.

It stayed that way for a few months.

**A/N: So the chapters are in chronological order. The more recent ones are probably the most detailed. And this will not be just D&D and QL, but I'll publish it under crossovers for D&D and whatever other things I mix in with it. I will do this, of course, as every new chapter is revealed. So I hope you guys like it.**


	3. Alphonse Elric

**Diclaimer: I do not own _Fullmetal Alchemist_, _Quantum Leap_, or _Dungeons and_ _Dragons_.  
**

3—Alphonse Elric

Her friend had finally convinced her to get the Fullmetal Alchemist manga (though she merely borrowed them from the library), and Anita had read. Within an hour, she had finished the first and developed a friendship with Alphonse.

It wasn't long before Anita had kissed him. She was always very forward. He had been shocked, yes, not believing that someone could love armor, but Anita shook her head when he asked.

"No," she told him. "No, that doesn't matter."

He would have smiled as she kissed the cold metal if he could.

She proposed not long after, but there were weeks before the wedding. First she had school, then she fell asleep, and then…the summer camp. Camp Towanda. Where everyone, it seemed, came from their mansion to spend a little bit of time torturing the other rich brats. Alphonse hated them for it. Because she didn't deserve it, not in the least.

When she was kicked out of the camp, she cried. She thought she had failed. He felt his heart twist. He put a hand that she could not feel on her shoulder, but it went through as easily as if she were mist. Alphonse made a sound like a sigh, and simply watched.

The day she and her family all drove home, the marriage began.

It all passed in a blur, but he remembered bits. Getting a suit on over the armor was hard, but it was worth it. He chuckled, remembering the girl Aisha and her avid statements that he was 'hers.' It had scared Anita half to death, so she had finally given in.

Alphonse didn't mind, he thought. Once he had gotten back to his human form, Anita had slowly adapted, getting used to projecting his human form—not the wasted body just back from the portal, but as Alphonse was when he finished recovering, with his hair and nails neatly trimmed.

Smiling, he looked down at her, head on his chest. Even now, she insisted on sleeping as they had when he was armor, on the foot of the bed just before it ended, staying to his right.

He fell asleep, waking when she kissed him. Morning light streamed through the window, becoming a gentle beam due to the blinds.

"You're still here…?" He mumbled sleepily.

"Of course. One month guaranteed after a wedding for the bride and groom," Anita responded, kissing him lightly on the cheek "and it's the day after—July 12th. _You_ know that."

It was perfect. Her, for an extra day in this three-day, ever-running cycle. That was enough for Alphonse as she curled in his arms. They laughed together—about how hard it was for her to distinguish between Al and Alphonse (she called both Al), about books, about her friends.

Anita had even met a girl earlier that year named Nevena, who had taught her to be able to not project the other world (which they named Fastreena) onto this one, but instead to go there in mind and spirit, inhabiting the bodies they had there. So at night, the two went there alone merely for the sake of talking. Anita still couldn't feel anything, but she was closer, and she saw detail if not sharply.

He loved her, but her time kept dividing among more and more people.

**So I'm just publishing it on this. Deal. I hope I get readers soon!**


	4. Skulduggery Pleasant

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is not mine. Except Anita. She's all MINE! I own her! I made her! She is my brainchild!**

4—Skulduggery

This was the one that Anita remembered the most.

They had met in late July of 2010. Anita had read the second book, and started to promptly have daydreams about him. A tall, thin, witty skeleton wearing dark suits, and she had dreams of him cornering her, grabbing her—gently, of course—and kissing her. But she knew it wouldn't happen. He was over four hundred, and she was only twelve.

"_Two thousand in his world, though you mightn't look any different,"_ some part of her mind whispered to her. _"But who's to say that you didn't force it? Who knows? Maybe you forced all three of the others to love you. It's too late to fix that, you know. But you can at least keep it from happening again…"_

And Anita—secretly—agreed. She wanted him to love her, or even care for her, but she wouldn't accept it because she knew it would be forced, somehow, by her magic in that world.

It was when he showed up to talk to her that Anita knew it was too late. So she didn't spend any time arguing with him—she merely got on her bike and rode away as quickly as she could. DungeonMaster, Alfred, and Alphonse were soon following. At the beginning, Skulduggery had run, but somehow Anita knew, even then, that he would eventually be able to fly, and then he flew alongside the bike.

Despite the tears, Anita ignored him. It created a chasm in her chest, and she tried to get away from his voice. She couldn't hear it, not really, for he was only an image she _imagined_ seeing—though he was alive and real in the world that she accessed—but she knew exactly what it would sound like, and that was enough to make her heart accelerate without the bike.

"Anita, please!" he called. "Please don't do this to me!"

"I have to! Don't you see? I've forced this on you! It's not your choice! I made it happen—I can't live with that!" Anit cried back. Her voice was choked with the wind and her breathlessness and tears, but iy was quiet either way to keep from scaring the pedestrians and other bikers on the trail.

"Then, Anita, let us do a test!" Alphonse cried.

Shocked at the idea, Anita skidded to a stop. "What?"

"A test. If your magic—which I can tell you think it is—is forcing Skulduggery to love you, or even care for you, I'll disconnect it. If he still cares for you then…" Alphonse stated. He was still in his armor, bless the man, and so not winded at all.

The other three quickly caught up with them.

"Please, Anita," Skulduggery pleaded. "Please."

Anita dragged her bike onto the grass and looked around for pedestrians. The trail was empty. With a curt nod, she told Alphonse, "Do it."

She gasped, staggering back, as a feeling like ice went through her chest. Her magic was gone. She stared at Skulduggery with cold eyes, broken inside, knowing that now he would hate her, now came the tirade…

She gasped at the first touch. A hand on her back. Was he remembering? Another hand, on her face. It was all she could do not to flinch. And then, he was kissing her. It was gentle, and sweet, and Anita suddenly became shorter of breath than she had been before. And everything happened within milliseconds of each other.

Her eyes closed, and one hand went up to his shoulder. Then it was over; Skulduggery pulled her in, her head against his chest, her ear over where his heart would have been.

"Do you believe it now?" he asked gently.

"Yes, I do. Alphonse, give me my magic back, please," Anita commanded.

A feeling of warmth had already existed (created simply from her joy), but a new heat rushed in, and Anita lost the hollow feeling of non-magic.

They spent the next four weeks together. They hugged, yes, and kissed, but mostly they just talked. Anita loved his voice. They found that they had quite similar senses of humour…if Skulduggery's were, indeed, a bit more honed. But he could always make her laugh, and was polite enough to at least chuckle at most of her jokes—though she was sure he didn't find most of her jokes even remotely funny.

And he was there when her mother died. He held her back, though she fought. She didn't scream though, no, because then she would have been killed, too.

It was a dark night, and they had been walking and laughing, and then Anita felt it. A tug. And she was suddenly standing in a stone chamber.

Her mother was in front of her. Chained to a stone wall. Her hair was matted with blood, and her eyes had deep, dark shadows.

Anita went to dart out, but her mother shook her head slightly as a man came out. Skulduggery held her back as she struggled silently. And then it started. The man—his name was Il'Guin—bent forward with a sneer and ripped at the chained woman's chest. His hand came away, holding a blue stone that glowed in the night. It was ovular, slightly flattened, and inside it seemed to be ice, swirling around. Everything about it hinted at frost.

And then the man's hand tightened around the stone and it cracked like ice. The moment the first crack showed, Anita's mother started to scream…and scream…and then the stone disintegrated, and the scream stopped.

Her eyes were hollow, Anita saw. Empty. They seemed almost lifeless. No soul was left behind them. And both whimpered as Il'Guin shot a fine mist of frost out of his hand. It floated down, beautiful, and spread over Anita's mother, encasing her in a fine frost. Il'Guin turned, left, and Anita felt the arms holding her back release her.

She was instantly at her mother's side, looking into the cold eyes, as the frost thickened to ice and then, a bubble around the woman's torso and mouth, stabbed inward. Blood pooled, collecting in the bubbles, and the woman's hand found Anita's tear-streaked face.

"Mom…" Anita cried.

The woman, Anita's mother, smiled a bit, and her hand fell, further emptiness clouding the blue eyes that had once held so much light…

Skulduggery had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming, and haul her bodily away. Somehow they moved through the wall, Anita screaming and kicking, wishing for revenge and they broke out of the daze.

With a sob, Anita wrapped herself around Skulduggery's torso.

It was August 16th, 2010. Anita woke in Skulduggery's arms—he had kept her company, reflecting back her body heat, for weeks now.

It was a smile, before she heard the cold, metallic-sounding voice in her head.

She looked around, seeing a note on the pillow next to her. Turning so her back would face the wall, and sitting up, Anita opened the letter. Skulduggery looked up at her as her face turned white, ashen.

"They're gone…Skulduggery…all of them…" Anita could barely get the words out in her shock dropping the note and not noticing.

Pulling out of the warmth as Anita covered her face in her hands, Skulduggery picked up the fallen note. On it was one sentence.

"_We are sorry to inform you, but your race, the __Nafar__, have become extinct."_

That was it. Skulduggery could tell that there were hundreds of these little notes, the race name typed in when needed.

"Oh, dear," he said softly. Anita began to sob—quietly, so that no one would hear—as he pulled her into a tight embrace.

"It's…my fault…I was…their queen…I was meant to…to…_protect_ them…I've failed, Skulduggery!" Anita gasped out between sobs.

"No, my love. No…no, it's fine. I'm sure there's some other way. You've failed no one—how could you have done anything. The Hunters did, yes? That's who killed them. Not you. Never you," Skulduggery reassured her. Still, she sobbed into his suit, crumpled from a night's sleep, as he rubbed circles into her back.

Once she had stopped crying, she smiled weakly, saying, "Well…it'll sound a little insincere now, but I had planned to anyway, and there's no use putting it off…will you marry me, Skulduggery?"

He was taken aback. "So quickly…are you _sure_ about this, Anita? Even after—"

"Of course I'm sure, Skulduggery, or I wouldn't have asked! I know it's fast, but I love you," Anita told him.

"Then," Skulduggery told her as they both lay down gently, sliding into the warmth of the sheets, "I would be delighted to marry you."

"I don't have a ring yet, but—" Anita started to explain.

"That's fine, we can go looking," Skulduggery assured her.

"I was _going _to say, but I was planning on making one. I'm getting rather good at Earth," Anita finished. "But we can go looking and see if there's a design you like…"

"That sound wonderful," Skulduggery said. There was a smile in his voice.

Anita had told the only other friend in her world, the one without magic or adventure or danger of the sort she faced in the world _with_ magic, to come on August twenty-first, at ten-thirty.

She forgot, but Skulduggery didn't mind. Anita and her friend, Nevena (meaning 'marigold' in South Slavic) were almost as close as Valkyrie and Tanith were.

Anita didn't know, though, that Skulduggery was…who—no, _what_—he was. But for now, Skulduggery left their peace go on. After all, the precepts of her world meant that he could not tell her anything she didn't already know. At least, nothing in his own storyline. So he _couldn't_ tell her. That pained him, but she would find out one day…

And god, she was beautiful. Her dress wasn't white, but gold, fading to green as it fell to the ground. Her smile was radiant, and her hair was fire, glowing as it fell, framing her face perfectly.

"_God, he's wonderful," _Anita thought. _"Strong. And tall…and he's always there for me…"_

Joy danced in both of their hearts. The skies were grey, but Skulduggery knew that Anita loved grey skies and rain, so he didn't mind. After all, he was used to them. Emerald green hills swept away into the dark sea, in the distance. Anita wore no veil—she didn't like the connotations behind it. And that was fine. Once he had learnt the story behind it, Skulduggery didn't like it either.

Lilies, he noticed. And white roses. A beautiful bouquet for a beautiful woman. Ghastly was best man, as were DungeonMaster, and Al, and Alphonse. Valkyrie and Tanith were bridesmaids…Nevena would have been, too, but since she had forgotten…

Soon they were exchanging vows. They were pure, and chaste, and simple.

"Skulduggery. You asked me, once, who could love a skeleton. I knew you were joking, but I knew the answer, then and there. I do. You are witty, and funny," Anita said. She was starting to get choked up, the dear… "And I know that you will always be by my side. Your being there is my comfort. Three days out of four, I miss you. The way you can always comfort me, and bring back some joy to my life. I love you. I love everything about you. And that, among changing seasons and roaring tides, will be one stable thing in my life."

If it was possible, Skulduggery's grin would have widened.

"Anita Heathers. I didn't love you right off. But I remember being close, the first day when I had to chase after you. You thought you forced it, once. I'm glad that's over, because it wasn't long before I did love you. I will always be here for you, because your smile is the brightest thing in my life. Even though I may be slightly insane," Skulduggery told her, Antia chuckling at the joke, "I will be as stable for you as you need me to be."

And then the rings. The rings were brought up by a stranger hired for the ceremony, and Skulduggery looked questioningly at the one ring before picking it up with his cue, and speaking words he wouldn't really remember clearly as he placed it on Anita's finger.

Anita opened her right hand, her left thumb rubbing the ring placed on that hand, and light and liquid silver floated up from her hand, forming a ring, silver. Two bits of silver, looking almost like wide, long leaves, came from opposite sides to encircle three pits, where gems _should_ have been. Skulduggery gazed in amazement at the beauty of what he saw. The light gathered on her face as she spoke, the same words that Skulduggery had spoken moments before. With a slight pulse of her hand, the unused, still-floating silver turned clear, slightly lowering the amount of material. The clear, liquid crystal shot down to the ring, forming three equal-sized stones, the rest absorbing back into her flesh.

Skulduggery felt a thrill of pleasure as she took his hand and slipped the ring on over his glove. A few more words that they both missed, staring into each other's faces. The light still seemed to light Anita's face. And then the kiss. Skulduggery wished he had lips for her, but she didn't care.

The reception was the first time Anita had seen Skulduggery dance. Usually, she hated it—and now that she saw him dance, she thought that may have been the main reason that they _didn't_. His feet moved quickly, surely, and his hand was solid in hers. It was one of the more common times that she _didn't_ simply project onto reality what she saw, so she felt the sheets of her bed as she lay, eyes closed, but even more than anything else, she felt the joy as she and Skulduggery danced together, swirling through the crowd. It may have been dramatic, a maybe seemed too flashy to others, but Anita Heathers didn't mind, for once, who was watching.

The last song of the night, she remembered—mostly because it had played a day after, with the title and band name, quite plain to see. It was _"Your Guardian Angel"_ by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. Anita loved the beginning, but didn't like the ending as much.

Still, it captured the situation well, and for a soundtrack she hadn't designed—Skulduggery had asked that he do that, at least—it suited her tastes extremely well.

**A/N: So I had to stop here due to the lack of milestones of more people, and I decided to fully detail the wedding. Don't expect this for all of the others. But soon there'll be chapters other than just 'this-is-how-they-met-and-then-there's-marriage-and-here's-a-memory-or-two' because that gets TIRING. But four chapters in one day...I think this is a record.**

**Review, lovelies!**


	5. Death of the Discworld

**Disclaimer: I do not own Discworld or any of the aforementioned series. Rights belong to the authors. I just take out the characters to play.**

Death of the Discworld

She was told that Terry Pratchett books were good, but she had never been told how good the characters were. Especially one. Yet again, Anita Heathers found herself magnetized by a skeleton with a wonderful personality.

Death.

It was funny, really, because technically Death wasn't supposed to feel any emotion, but from the way he _kissed_ her…it would seem that a not-quite-twelve year old was already starting to make the impossible possible.

And she was glad for it, too. Though his ego and humor were much different from Skulduggery's (he was, after all, not human at all. Death was an anthropomorphic personification, thank you very _much_.), but the two had the same astonishing tenderness in their gaze, though Death's was, perhaps, a little more icy. But that was more the light they cast that anything else.

She still remembered the first time she had seen the hourglass room, as she called it. The sound like the ocean soothed her, and she smiled. Suddenly, long, bony arms were put around her, and she was lifted into the air, carried bridal-style. And Death started walking. Anita liked it, her head resting against his chest, as they talked and laughed.

"What's _this_?" someone asked.

They both stopped mid laugh at the tone, and Death swung Anita gently to her feet. Still, they each clasped the other's hand. Death cleared his throat.

"ALBERT," he said. His voice was…dare Anita say _wary_? "THIS IS ANITA. SHE…" he trailed off, lost for words.

"You two…you're an item?" Albert asked. His eyes bulged. "But I thought you…you couldn't…by Scott, _how_?" he demanded.

"IT WOULD SEEM THAT THINGS HAVE CHANGED," Death replied.

Anita smiled, leaning in a little closer. Their hands separated and Death's arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"W-well, then…" Albert stammered.

And he hurried off, mumbling to himself. Anita and Death proceeded out to the garden—all in dark blacks. It was the first truly perfect night they'd had in a while.

Anita knew he would propose tonight…that was _if_ Nevena would stop interrupting just as he was preparing himself to pop the question. She had tried to go down to the floor, but Nevena still woke her every five minutes asking, "Did he do it yet?"

Anita could understand Nevena's eagerness, but it was still incredibly annoying, especially because Nevena had no idea why Anita was so aggravated.

And then Nevena fell asleep. Anita closed her eyes, smiling.

She sat behind Death, riding on Binky, going over a forest. It was night, the sky an inky black, and they landed next to a river, with plants that somehow looked bright green, despite the dim lighting.

And then she was standing, by a bright green fern, and then Death was facing her. He seemed…uncomfortable. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, arms at his sides. Anita had to remind herself that she wasn't supposed to know about the proposal.

"ANITA," he said hesitantly, "I HAVE SOMETHING TO…OH, SOD IT." He gave up, kneeling, barely needing to look up to see into her eyes. "I LOVE YOU. I NEVER THOUGHT IT WOULD BE POSSIBLE FOR ME, BUT I DO."

"_No glands," _Anita thought, _"and yet he still loves me…"_ A light blush tinged her cheeks.

"WILL YOU MARRY ME?" Death asked. The words tumbled out in a rush, and Anita darted forward, flinging her arms around his neck and shoulders. She barely noticed the thin band of silver, with five diamonds set into it. It was quiet, and beautiful, but Anita broke through his hands quickly.

"Of course I will!" she cried. Her eyes burned with tears of joy, but she refused to let them fall over. "I love you so much," she mumbled into his cowl.

"I LOVE YOU, TOO," he said, shocked. His hands gripped her back hesitantly.

He wore his cowl for the wedding. Anita didn't mind; when it wrapped her, soft as it was, she felt safe. Just as she felt safe in Al's, or Alphonse's, or Skulduggery's embrace, as safe as when she gathered DungeonMaster into her arms. And he really did look wonderful in, it. It suited him—which made sense, if she spent the time to think about it.

Everything passed in a blur, at least in Anita's memory. The dress she wore was blue, deep blue, dark blue, almost purple, and she smiled.

Again, she crafted the ring, though this time in a subtler way; it simply formed on the palm of her hand.

Like the last time, there were multiple best men and no bridesmaids—it was odd, how little Anita paid attention to the traditions, but no one seemed to mind.

There was no reception—the two preferred their own company—but the other four ended up sitting with them. Anita sat in Death's lap, heedless of the bones beneath her. They never bothered her, not with Skulduggery, not with Death. She leaned her head gently against Death's chest, smiling sweetly to herself. His hands clasped with hers, they sat and talked, the soft, dark folds of cloth surrounding her, framing her fair-skinned hair and red hair.

When they discussed the lack of need for emotions in one of the books, Anita was frightened. But then…he had told her that he could, in fact, release emotion whenever he pleased. He just wouldn't for her, because to him emotions were addictive.

"_ESPECIALLY __**HER**__,"_ he thought as he kissed her hair.

* * *

"WHAT ARE YOU THINKING ABOUT?" Death asked Anita. She shook out of her trance, smiling at him gently.

"Just reminiscing. About our wedding," she replied.

"IT'S, WHAT, DECEMBER 28TH? IT'S ONLY BEEN A WEEK…CAN YOU STILL CALL IT REMINISCING?" he asked.

"Hmm, yes. I think a week is the minimum amount of time for reminiscing," Anita replied. A thought took her suddenly. "Do _you_ ever reminisce?"

"NOT REALLY, NO. I NEVER SAW THE POINT OF THE THING."

Anita smiled. He was an interesting character, but she loved him.

And nothing happened for months—it was summer before anyone else showed up. Anniversaries came and went. Anita turned thirteen, but thirteen hundred in Fastreena.

**A/N: So, what do you think? No one's reviewing. If this keeps going, I might threaten you with getting rid of the series. It's not much good, anyways.**

**Ah, well. So how do you like Death? There wasn't much background for him, and I'm sorry I diverged from just Death, but I don't want other chapters before all eight initial characters have been revealed. Sorry the start is slow and doesn't have a lot of action. There's be plenty of excitement later-though very little that I actually tell will be good after a bit. There'll be the occasional fight, but that would get boring. Since Anita is projecting to the world called 'Fastreena,' she'll be put under no constraints until she actually gets there in _A World Unknown_. And actually, with this as a prequel, I might have to change the title. If you have a good idea about that, lemme know (but if you haven't read it yet, you might want to wait until after this. **

**I think this is officially the longest author's not I've had.**

**Chamomile tea for everyone!**

**_CLEAN INSIDE AND OUT..._**

**See you lovelies around, and don't forget to REVIEW. Or I'll start giving up on this, I swear, because I already think my writing sucks.**


	6. L

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the series of the previous chapters. Rights belong to authors and publishers. I only own Anita and Il'Guin.**

L—Ryuzaki

Anita sided with him from the moment she saw him. Not that it was unexpected—it was a detective who sounded remarkably like Skulduggery or a murderer gone mad, claiming to be gone. Siding with Kira would be like siding with a Faceless One to Anita. Or a hunter.

She soon liked him. She called him up, talking with him. He thought she was Kira. The accusation stung, but eventually L came to trust her—it was probably when she took a dagger resulting in torture at the hands of Il'Guin, she reckoned.

Anita sank down next to the lifeless body, falling into memory.

(Line Break)

_She pushed the man out of the way. He snarled at her for a moment, thinking it was an attack, even as the force of the push made her turn to face the dagger she knew was coming full on. _

_Il'Guin. She knew it was him._

_He ripped out the dagger, pushing his hand through shredded muscle to her stone. His fingers scrabbled at the surface before getting a hold and pulling it out. Anita gritted her teeth as he started to squeeze, bursting into screams as memories looped through her head._

_Her mother, bloodied and beaten._

_Her mother, dying in Anita's arms._

_Skulduggery, screaming, as Serpine pointed, Anita helpless with her bones broken._

_Alphonse, his rune out and exposed, as Anita struggled to support her body without legs, fighting the wooziness that came from blood loss, biting her lip to stay awake, preparing a dagger for Lust's unwary back._

_She collapsed, pulled deeper into memory._

_DungeonMaster lay dying at the hands of Venger. Anita screamed, throwing fire at the fiend, turning to a near-lifeless body. Fire would not heal him. Fire _could_ not heal him. She started to chant, and her soul went into him, her life, and his weakened soul came to her. As she knew would happen, they mixed when they went back, something crossing, linking the two forever._

_Al, bruised and beaten, tried to pull out the dagger, but it wouldn't work. Anita felt something in her go, and she knew it was too late. Again, she started to chant, rushing the words as his soul slipped away. Again, souls mixed, and the three were all bonded._

_Alphonse cried out as his rune was shattered—__**shattered**__—and Anita screamed her rage. She had grown, in power and in knowledge, so she didn't waste time with chants—she just placed her hands, palms down, on the armor that was his body and screamed as her soul was ripped from her. Again, a mixing, a bonding._

_Skulduggery, turned to dust under the Scepter, Serpine laughing as the black glow lit his face. He was still laughing as Anita plunged the dagger into his face, killing him almost instantly. She turned, and didn't even have time to scream as the souls rushed in an exchange. It nearly killed her, but she woke in Skulduggery's arms. Mix. Bind. _

_Death collapsed as his lifetimer was smashed, and Anita knew the impossible had just occurred. Death was…dead. She switched the hourglass for hers, and souls mixed in the process. She screamed, but was powerful enough to ignore it and fix the ruined hourglass—now hers—scattered in pieces on the floor. Mix. Bind._

_Alphonse screamed as his body turned to liquid, shooting towards Anita as every metal object in the room came flying at her. She screamed as she tried to control it, but she wasn't meant for this amount of power; it would destroy her and those around her. Finally, a searing pain ran through her as it stopped. Most of the metal in the room was disfigured somehow, but Alphonse had managed to stay through it all. Anita crawled towards him. At first, he flinched back, not sure if she was under control, but with no sign of metal bending around her, he ran forward, scooping her into his arms, stroking her hair soothingly. And that was when Anita became a metal bender. _

(line break)

She stopped screaming as the stone shattered. Breaking out of his shock, he kicked Il'Guin in the face. Il'Guin promptly dropped the stone, and the fire Anita could only watch with frightened yet disinterested eyes went out. A dagger blossomed in Il'Guin's chest, and Anita realized she had thrown it. The stone moved into her hand and she gasped, vision clearing, as the emptiness in her chest went away, the cold grip of her dying gone.

"You aren't Kira," he said.

"Been…trying…to tell you that," Anita panted. She had her soul back, in one piece, but she was out of breath and her throat was rough, ragged. She started to sit up, but L pushed her gently back down, shushing her. He tilted water into her mouth; she swallowed gratefully, staring up into those grey eyes.

He withdrew his hand, and she couldn't resist anymore. Her strength was back, following the power she gleaned from the imbibed power, so she sat up quickly, catching him by the mouth. He didn't move or breathe, and she pulled back. He shook slightly, and he rocked back, but he didn't run.

"_God…did I…did I _enjoy_ that? This girl who I barely know," _L wondered. _"But then,"_ a voice argued, _"You've known her for a while. You didn't want to think she was Kira, did you? You like the girl."_

Shoving away the teasing in his head, taking the voice of Near for some reason, L stood, holding his hand out to Anita. She took it, standing gracefully and going to the body of Il'Guin, wresting the dagger from his chest.

"I hate doing that…" she muttered, as the body faded into mist and disappeared, putting L in mind of a video game. Somewhere else, Il'Guin stood, anger clouding his features. That girl _kept_ killing him…and reviving him…

(line break)

Anita held her hand up, and crumbs disappeared from the plate, fires blazing up before dying down to reveal another slice of double-layer chocolate cake. It was still the only thing she could make.

She reveled in the fact that she had, a few weeks prior, to convince L to actually enter a relationship with her. She didn't blame him for being cautious, especially when half of the time their conversations were interrupted by one assassin or another, and Anita quickly slashing through their chest before carrying on. Even the blood cleaned itself from the knife automatically—just another spell Anita had developed.

As she handed the plate over, L suddenly put it down and snatched her hand. She was a bit unsettled, but not a second later he had pulled her into a hug. Shocked, Anita gripped him tightly, grinning. When he let go, she made herself do the same. On retreat, she saw that he was blushing furiously.

"Th-thanks for the cake," he muttered. Anita smiled. She had always thought stammers were quite cute…

(line break)

Episode twenty-six. Anita watched, keeping her tears back only because of her parents' presence, as Ryuzaki died. And then there was dinner. There was no time.

As soon as she could, she went into her room. She didn't even know what excuse she used, she just saw Ryuzaki lying sprawled, half on the bed and half on the floor. She dragged him onto the bed, whispering his name as she put his head onto her lap, crying as she stroked his hair back. His flesh was cold, his muscles slack.

"_Please, oh, please God, don't let it be too late!"_ she prayed. And she felt herself and L entwine, souls becoming a light mist in the air. As the souls crossed, falling into each other's bodies, Anita passed out.

She woke not even minutes later, and cried into L's cold, still chest. Her tears came slowly and left swiftly—she had cried over so much before—and she simply lay with her head bowed over his.

A deep, waking breath. Anita's head whipped up enough to search in L's face for some sign of life. His eyes fluttered open, and Anita gave a quiet cry of joy, hugging him to her chest.

"Don't you dare scare me like that again! _Ever, _you hear?" Anita said over his shoulder. She was sobbing, sounds of wracking her body. "God, I love you," she whispered into the space behind him.

Instantly, L stiffened. Anita started to pull back, but his arms tightened and he said, "I think…I think I might love _you_, Anita."

She smiled sadly. 'Think' meant a no, but it was ok to her. And then, as she pulled away, he pulled her back in. She frowned; the angles were all weird…

And then his lips pressed against hers. Anita's eyes shut slowly, not daring to believe it. Her heart beat quickly, her stomach did flips, and then her arms were solidly around the man. She started to react, and she felt a blush tinge her cheeks. They were silent, but she still reveled in it.

A slight sadness overcame her when she realized that she couldn't feel a thing. She knew exactly what it felt like, but…and she suddenly knew the taste of him, without ever tasting it herself.

Butter-cream frosting.

(line break)

As she had nearly every time, she proposed quickly, and they were married on July twenty-first. She had to admit, L looked odd in a suit, but when he stood straight, he was tall, strong-looking. And he stood straight as she marched down the aisle.

A blur. Nevena had helped with makeup, loaned Anita one of her dresses, and was the maid of honor.

Watari was best man; the rest sat just in the front row, smiling. They did not join the ceremony, not this time—by their own choice, of course.

This time, the ring Anita gave L was made before the wedding, as the two lay side by side, talking.

Everything melted away in light of the reception. Anita felt horrible for it, but she couldn't help it—Nevena had a daughter in Fastreena. Her name was Seren. Anita had no time to talk with a single other person, because Seren asked question after question. L left to get more cake several times. Anita tried to end the conversation, gently, but it never worked.

She left tired and drained, but one look at L and her spirits lifted instantly.

**A/N: So, I didn't know how to end that, really, but there you have it. I see that **_**Images**_** already has readers from Germany, and the UK. I would say from the U.S., too, but…I think that might be me. So, hey, if you're still with me, READ! And review to let me know I'm still with you. I'll respond, and I don't mind if you just criticize me, because then I'll get better.**

**Anita is now a Mary-Sue. I think some of you knew that was coming. And the part where Il'Guin was torturing her was, I hope, not too confusing. But I needed to fill in the soul-bonds, because those are important. I couldn't before, because usually they occurred after the next person came in, which is where I leave off the chapters.**

**You like? You hate? TELL ME!**

**Please?**


	7. Death the Kid

**Disclaimer: I still don't own anything but Anita, Il'Guin, and an aggravation at the growing list of disclaimers that I have to do.**

Death the Kid

She loved his voice. That was often the first thing to attract her, she realized. And his neurotics just amused her. Still, when something bad happened to him, Anita found herself leaning toward the screen, wishing it would stop.

And Death the Kid (or, as everyone called him, Kid) had a good sense of humor, too. It was odd at first, being that another version of his father was her husband, but they all took it with good humor—it probably helped that her husband and Kid's father weren't in the least bit similar. But all four of them often walked together.

Anita had been having memory problems for a while now. She was sad often, if she paused to think. People killed her daily; she was tortured weekly. Ashura tried to get her soul more times than she cared to count.

But she didn't remember the wedding. It tore her up. She _thought_ she was the one to propose, and she knew _when_ the wedding was—August eighth, the first time a wedding of hers had not been on an eleventh or a twenty-first—but she knew she loved him. He was gentle. She barely remembered the other weddings now—if she ever told of them, most of it would have to be made up. There were bits, pieces that she remembered. But strain as she could, she didn't remember getting married to Kid.

It had been planned, oh yes. She remembered kissing him, but there had been so many times she did not know which one it was she remembered. She felt as if she were shattering—just like the Kishin did, in the last episode, only slowly, so slowly. She drifted apart.

Daydreams that used to be pleasant trips were now visions of torture. The number of times she killed herself in those dreams were so high she couldn't count them, and they all bled into one another.

Her happiness was slowly shattering. She could no longer find the stars that marked her home world or the Realm. She tried to scrabble for some hold of her sanity, but she failed.

And the people she loved were drifting away. She could feel them fading. So she redoubled her efforts. She watched the shows. She started to buy and read the manga. But she couldn't bear the lack of seeing, of feeling, of tasting the people she had mixed souls with.

She had mixed with Kid when the Kishin had wounded him, but she didn't remember it. She remembered when Kid had been stabbed through, though, with that spike, her worry and anguish—she had thought he was dead.

She caught a glimpse of a star that might have been her home, and tears formed in her eyes. She wished she could race through her life, see none of it, and go home, but she still lived, worked, got stronger and stronger.

She didn't know how long she could last. Even the arms of one of her husbands clasping her tight did not comfort her. She started to become terrified for no identifyable reason.

The nightmares got worse. It all got a little better, the frenzied chaos slowing when she met the next man.

**A/N: So here we come to some rising action. Things start to fall apart here. **

**Memory doesn't work. Magic is powerful. Fastreena is boring. But there's always the longing, so we'll see what happens.**

**On a lighter note, I'm loving spring break. I wanna go to Ireland and Germany, but I'll wait until we can go. My math teacher went to Dublin over break; I asked her to look out for Derek Landy and take pictures if she met him. So I'm hopeful. Wouldn't be cool if Derek Landy became my pen-pal? I could ask all sorts of questions and stuff…but I suppose the conversation would run down rather quickly. **

**I wonder, d'you think authors read fanfiction of their series when they're not writing it? That'd be interesting…**

**And I have decided that **_**if**_** and **_**when**_** I get a book published, I'll give people an author's contact method. 'Cause that could be fun. If not too many people actually e-mailed me…**

**Anyway, done with the endless rambling now. **


	8. Lt Commander Data

**Disclaimer: I also don't own Star Trek. Any Star Trek**

**I decided to do this one from Data's point of view! May not be a happy chapter; I'm in a black mood.**

Lt. Commander Data

"_I never thought this was possible…"_ Data thought. Always, he'd thought that, as an android, he couldn't feel love. But when this girl…Anita…when she was around, he felt love. And now he felt joy, and rage, and he laughed, sometimes. He hadn't even meant to; it just slipped by.

Anita, meanwhile, seemed to care for him. She shivered slightly when he talked sometimes. But she seemed almost ruined—her daymares started to be something that froze Anita in place, her face pale. She told no one, at first, of what was in them. But she trembled, the shaking so slight that very few even saw it, but it was there.

As Data thought, walking alongside her, Anita suddenly swung around, standing in front of him. He started to frown, and then her hand was around one side of his neck, fingers trailing in his hair. She stood on tiptoe, and gently, giving him time to pull away, kissed him.

Surprise bloomed, and even that had been surprising. His hands were around her waist, and a noise broke them apart.

"S-sorry…" Anita muttered.

Data shook his head in amusement, pulling her back in. "Do not be," he told her. As his lips met hers—yet again—he felt her stiffen in shock. Soon she melted into him, and the two glided slowly out of the kiss.

"Oh…well…I certainly didn't expect _that_…" Anita said. Data noticed that she was a bit…breathless.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked. Anita laughed gently.

"No, not at all," she told him, leaning her forehead against his shoulder gently.

The warmth he felt was puzzling, but Data realized that he liked it. He not only experienced an emotion, but had an opinion about it. And it was not a simple true/false opinion, either, which were based on fact, but a _liking_, which was based purely on his preferences.

And so he took another step towards a quickly growing humanity, speaking the truth of what he felt. "I love you," he told her.

Anita only smiled, but said, "What a coincidence. I love you, too."

And this takes us to present day.

**A/N: Sorry this is such a short chapter, but that really is as far as the backstory goes. So, no, she and Data are not married. Surprise!**

**And there won't be **_**too**_** long before I finish with this and go back to the other one. Thanks for sticking with this, guys!**

**I officially think you guys are the best thing since sliced bread. And that's saying something, because Passover ended yesterday. I haven't had bread for EIGHT DAYS! So you could say I'm in love with bread right now. 'Cause I couldn't have it yesterday, either. **

**And you guys are cooler. **_**Just for reading this.**_** Oh, and by the way…think of how cool it would be if you reviewed?**

**And, of course, add all of your guys' innate and acquired awesomeness to the mix—I don't know you enough to put that into the equation.**

**Read and review!**


	9. Panic and Dreams

**Disclaimer: I own Anita. I don't own Dungeons and Dragons, Quantum Leap, Fullmetal Alchemist, Skulduggery Pleasant, Discworld, Death Note, Soul Eater, or Star Trek: Next Generation. I just borrow the characters to fulfill my need for amusement.**

**Quick Author's Note: if you can't handle gory detail and torture scenes, skip the italicized section of Anita's daymare. It's a large part of the chapter, I'll give you guys a quick summary towards the end if you don't want to read it.**

Panic and Dreams

Anits laced up her wrestling shoes with shaking hands. She knew it, just _knew_ that her coaches would say something. She took a deep breath as she put her hair into a bun and slipped the skull cap on over her hair, trapping it in.

She felt sick as she left the locker room to go into the hallway, snapping the button for her wrestling headgear closed, walking down the hall slowly. She had the pass for sports study hall clenched in a tight fist, nausea making her pause by the trash bin on her way.

"_Please, please don't let me be sick,"_ she told herself.

There was so much on the line. Yesterday she had done poorly in running, too poorly, and if she didn't do better today, she wouldn't stay on the team. And the coaches would be mad at her, for her shouting match with her gym teacher, and for being late. And she couldn't _run_. It had always been her weak point.

By the time she got to the mat room, her breathing was shallow and erratic, her palms sweaty. She shook and couldn't stop it, her stomach roiled as if the liquid inside boiled coldly. She couldn't think properly.

And it only got worse—within a quarter of an hour, after running up and down a set of stairs, she alternated between leaning over a mostly-empty trash can, heaving up the little lunch she had left, and sitting curled in a ball, crying out her terror.

They were coming for her. She had no idea who _they_ were, or what they would do, but she knew it was something bad.

Practice was a terrified blur, people asking if she was alright, she responding that yes, it was ok, she was fine. She couldn't stop the tears, now, and sobbed as she lifted weights. When they went into one of the coaches rooms for the rest of practice, Anita sat in the back, huddled, managing—just barely—to quiet her sobs. Tears still fell down her face, but soon the terror quieted, and Anita shook lightly, the tears slowing to a stop.

As soon as she was released, though, she had to sprint off, feeling as if a dagger was at her back. Death followed her, his long strides allowing him to keep pace with her—barely—his cowl flowing behind him and his scythe over his shoulder.

(line break)

It was a few months later, in March, that he found her shaking in his arms as the worst daymare yet ravaged the landscape of her mind.

He started as a sudden connection between his soul and hers let him see what she saw. And, like her, he was unable to pull away, a sick fascination taking hold of his mind…

_The weight dropped onto her chest, and she opened her eyes to see a demon, grotesque in all of its detail, leering at her with a dagger clenched in its fist._

_She was wearing no clothes, and she couldn't move, couldn't get any clothing to appear, as the demon slipped inside her, the blackness fading in and out, until it was over. It censored the parts she would only see once she was older, ready to take it. _

_And the demon took its dagger, cutting deep slashes in her skin, and Anita would have screamed but couldn't. Soon the demon was bored of this game, and so started to cut squares and rectangles, pulling her skin off in patches, leaving behind red raw patches, and still Anita couldn't think, couldn't move, couldn't scream…_

_The demon gave up on that game before long, her feet and skins almost completely skinless, cuts on her forearms, a large patch of skin missing on her abdomen. Anita didn't have the strength left for screaming anymore, didn't want to, even if she could. She just wanted to curl up and cry, but the nature of the daymare was such that she couldn't do a thing but watch as her body was mutilated, abused._

_The knife went close to her toes, and it cut off paper-thin slice by paper-thin slice until her big toe was gone through the nail. Blood was everywhere, and slashes continued randomly along her body, thighs, arms, face, breasts, her crotch all opening up with a spurt of blood until it slowly faded away._

_But the terror could not be shaken loose._

Death snapped out there, Anita shaking in the blank blackness of pure fright, and his grip on her tightened. She reciprocated the gesture, but didn't seem to notice anything outside of the bubble of her mind.

Her happiness always had sadness behind it, and now it broke through the thin membrane of joy too often, revealing sadness and fright.

Her happiness had shattered as Death watched. She wished to race towards his presence, and he tried to stop her, tried to make her love life again, find joy again, but to no avail.

She shook in his arms, and if he could, he would have cried for her, for her pain and her now-common wish of an easy and quick death. He shook with sadness, holding her to him, and tried to comfort her with a hand running through her hair.

When she came out of it, she felt sick, and just lay in his arms, indifferent and apathetic.

**A/N: So this was a bit graphic. I think rating is now an M, yes? So…hope you guys are still alright.**

**And here we come towards the climax. We'll see how this goes. Anita is **_**not**_** having a good time of it, huh? How do you feel towards her? Like? Love? Hate? Tell me!**

**That's right, **_**review**_**…**

**And for those who want a summary of the daymare: Anita is basically stuck in a daydream gone wrong where she is tortured and raped. Fun, eh? Well, don't we all love demons...**

**Oh, and BTW, the demon, if you want a more stable image, is like the one in Soul Eater, only no longer anime and a bit more grotesque. **

**Bye bye now!  
**


	10. Lord Vile

**I do not own anything but Anita Heathers and myself. **

**Warning: Death Bringer spoilers**

Lord Vile

The armor, swathed in darkness, came closer. Skulduggery watched Anita, alive most when in danger, dance away. Fright shone in her eyes, and Skulduggery realized that she still did not know. He still could not tell her.

He was Lord Vile. The armor about to destroy them both was…_his_.

And then she cocked her head. A dagger slashed, and something that looked like the shadows Necromany produced whipped out, these all white, shining brightly. The armor staggered and she leaped, feet landing on the breastplate, shadows piercing her. Even as her mouth dripped blood, mania crept into her eyes, twisting her mouth in a smile. A crazed laugh echoed through her mind and the room as the armor clanked open.

Alphonse cringed at the knowledge that she could do that, when he was in armor form, but he blinked and relaxed, scratching his hand.

The armor's shadows dissipated, and Alphonse was reminded of the portal as the white shadows, now little hands just like those that had taken _him_, once, stripped away the darkness. The armor faded, and Anita turned on her heels, lurching as a dagger tip came out of her stomach. She put her hand behind her back and pulled out the metal before turning, bringing the hilt onto her attackers head with a hysterical laugh.

Skulduggery knew it was coming—he had read ahead in the book she had, The Death Bringer, and it had the information he wanted her to know. But would she hate him? If she knew what he did, would she still love him?

* * *

Anita stared ahead, face pale, and Skulduggery knew she had read it. She knew.

"Well, then. Hello, Anita," Skulduggery tried. She stared at him blankly. "Have things…changed, then?" It was uncharacteristic of him to pause, but he couldn't help it. Today was the day where he either lost everything or secured his position in Anita's heart, and he depended on her to decide which it was.

"Well…I have to say, it's a shock that I'm married to Lord Vile…but…no. I love _you_, and honestly this just gives me ideas of advantages I might have," she responded slowly. Her voice shook slightly, and she was quiet, but the declaration was obvious, firm.

Skulduggery had to resist the urge to collapse on his knees as he strode over to sit with Anita.

Something felt wrong. He felt a chill, and then he watched Lord Vile stride through the door. Anita stood, irate, but looked between the two with confusion. She couldn't feel it, the space around her bending and shifting, but Skulduggery felt it. It felt as if the fabric of reality were plastic, melting slowly.

Anita strode up to the figure, mostly unafraid. He tilted his head, and Skulduggery couldn't move as a gauntlet slipped around her neck, lifting Anita into the air. She smiled faintly, said something he didn't quite catch, and kissed Lord Vile.

Skulduggery's mind was reeling silently, and then he was gone, watching through the eyes of Lord Vile as she touched her lips to his visor yet again. The armor melted away, and Skulduggery let her go, weakness taking him over. But even as he collapsed slowly to his knees and then fully to the floor, conquest rang through him. Lord Vile could not comprehend love. And because of this, he could not fight it, and the simple act of someone Skulduggery—and, thus, his alter ego—loved demonstrating their bond would always melt the shadows, unclench their hold on him.

This was _good_.

**A/N: So I just realized I've been leaving the line breaks as (line break). Oops. I didn't mean to, sorry! You'll have to deal with the ones already out, but I'll try to be more attentive from now on and actually insert the line breaks where I dropped the reminders to.**

**K?**

**And sorry this has all been such short chapters, but they'll probably stay that way for the rest of the time.**

**Some memories will not be entered for the meaning of the story, but they're in the next fanfic after this, so you'll still get the story.  
**

**And remember to tell me your thoughts. Review, people!**


	11. Venger

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but Anita. Anything other than her that you recognize is not mine.**

**Because you really should recognize Anita by now.**

Venger

He was…DungeonMaster's _son_. The thought saddened Anita more than it repulsed her. His own son, trying to kill him…

And she had read the scripts for _Requiem_ now, too. The apartment was dark, empty. She was alone.

So she shifted and bent space, and Venger appeared. He went to attack, but Anita sunk into a lunge, arm out straight in front of her, palm straight, fingers curled. Every muscle was stiff as she pushed the energy towards Venger. DungeonMaster stood behind her, and light shot out. Venger fell, wings gone, tears of joy and relief glistening.

Anita collapsed. DungeonMaster didn't know which to go to. His wife, robbed of almost all of her power, weak and pale, who had just saved his son? Or his son himself, now redeemed? Anita stood with effort, nodding at him, and DungeonMaster rushed to his son's side.

"Well…this'll take some getting used to. I mean, not trying to kill each other. It's nice, though. Peaceful," she said. She walked slowly, dragging her feet, into the kitchen. Water. A source of her power. She needed _water_.

DungeonMaster ran to her quickly once she was sitting on the floor, glass in hand. Part of him was embarrassed, acting as juvenile as he was, but his son had just been freed. Anita smiled as he embraced her gently, carefully, and one of her arms wrapped around his back, the other holding the glass out of the way.

He let go, and she stood, striding to Venger.

"So, you're my son-in-law. Pleasure to meet you," she said, hand out. She stared into his eyes, and he hesitated before extending his hand and shaking hers, cautiously. Neither broke the gaze.

"_So,"_ DungeonMaster sighed inwardly, _"everything is not yet healed. But they've made a start. Good."_

Meanwhile, Anita felt tears shed inside her chest, feeling like a chasm.

Alphonse had asked her for children. She had said she would agree once she got home, and she realized now that she had family there. She wanted to be able to look into her lovers' eyes and _see_ them, touch a face or pat a shoulder and have change occur to herself as well.

But she had to die, to do that.

Not yet, though. She wasn't done yet.

**A/N: These are getting shorter and shorter. Damn it! Ah, well, I'd better watch my language. But I swear, this is going to be the last background chapter.**

**Two more and I can get back to **_**A World Unknown.**_

**Yay!**


	12. Plans and Action

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note. Or anything but Anita and my mistakes.**

Plans and Actions

She had realized before what she was missing, unable to see or feel or, overall, _experience_ the people to whom she was married. Or dating, in Data's case.

But now she saw it. And she knew how to solve the problem.

The problem was that she was in a separate world than the people she loved. The solution was for her to go to that world. And that would happen when she died.

"_I might just have to…speed it up some,"_ she thought. She turned and walked into her bedroom so her parents wouldn't see, and quietly said to L, "I'm coming home. Tonight, I'll do it tonight."

"What?" he asked.

"I'm going to kill myself. So I can come home. I love you—I can't stay this way anymore. I can't. So I'm going to come home," she explained.

"Anita, I love you too…but…are you sure? Are you sure you can do this?" he inquired.

"Of course I can! L, I love you! I love you so much, and I can't stand this anymore! Every second I'm losing you again! I have to do this," Anita told time.

L nodded. He didn't like this—the girl obviously needed help. He would get just enough doubt into her mind that she wouldn't, and when she acted, the mystery would be unveiled to all. She would get the help she needed.

Anita, on the other hand, was planning. She would need something to kill herself with, and she didn't want the body to be found—surely, she thought, that would be much easier for everyone involved—so she would use a bridge. She would need a way to wake up late at night…

And then it came to her. She would use her old alarm clock, plug in her headphones, set the alarm for very late at night, or very early in the morning, and then she would take the kitchen knife and go. Just leave, go to the canal path, find a bridge, and die.

The bluntness, the immediacy of her death, it made her smile. She would go home. Tomorrow morning he would wake up in the embrace of someone she loved.

So she wrote a letter, and she set the alarm.

(line break)

That night, she stood. It should be late enough. And so she grabbed her ribbon, tied it around her waist, under her shirt, made a holster for the knife out of a simple loop of cloth, and went into the kitchen. She got a glass of water, plunked an ice cube in it, and found the knife. She crunched the cold cube between her teeth as she slipped the knife into the holder she had made, and grabbed the last cube as she walked to the door.

She opened it, her father called out her name, and she _ran_.

Soon she was outside, hiding in places of the apartment complex where she had never even been. She had hidden under a car. The knife didn't work in the holder, so she held it in her hand. A few times, she prepared, but the knife was dull, and L had asked if she was sure, and her father's cry kept ringing out in her head, playing again and again.

She wasn't sure. She should go back. It would be alright if she went back. But no.

"_I have to die,"_ she thought.

It was on the canal path that they found her. She was numb, cold, as they took her back. She had given them the knife. She had given up. She had failed.

**A/N: Ooooh, plot point! So, yeah, Anita Heathers has spent time in a psych ward (some of her friends, actually, are from there. O.O) **

**And sorry, neither this nor the next chapter are nearly as long as I'd hoped. Ah, well, on to ****A World Unknown**** after the next one…which I just need to upload. (Say thank you to the computer for six hours of no internet connection.)**

**Thoughts? Comments? Questions?**

**Then REVIEW! **

**(Or I'll set the cookie monster on you…)**


	13. Recovery

**Disclaimer: I own Anita. I own my mistakes. I do not own anything else.**

Recovery

Anita had recovered quickly in the psych ward. She spent only eight days there, but they put her on medication, so she got better. Her brain chemistry had been off.

She was home again. Something about her brain had kept her away, but the medicine cleared away the fog, and she was back. She was home.

She saw a psychiatrist weekly. She got better. Her dose went up, she finished school, and she was slowly weaned off of the medicine. In the meantime, L had explained his motives, why he hadn't full-out stopped her. She gave him wings—white, they were, and long. Powerful wings, which looked beautiful on him.

At fourteen years old, she had gotten over being suicidal.

"Anita," her mother called. "Anita, your father and I have something to tell you."

Anita trudged out into the living room sleepily. Skulduggery followed after, hat off and tie loose, but awake enough to hear what happened next.

"What is it?" she asked blearily.

"We've decided that we need some celebration," her father told her, "of your quick recovery. Remember when we went to get our pictures taken at the post office and we wouldn't tell you why?" Anita nodded and he went on. "Well, we got passports. And in a week, we're taking a ship to Ireland."

Anita jolted awake, started squealing, jumping, and hugging her parents. She was obsessed with the country, to the point that she planned to take Irish Gaelic, wanted to live in Ireland, and would have been quite happy if someone had packed her in their luggage if they went on a trip to her favorite country.

(line break)

"You know, you might not remember me, even if I find you," Anita told him.

"I know," Skulduggery replied. They stood together in her bedroom, dim due to drawn blinds, as Anita packed her suitcase. "But Anita, I promise, I will remember something. You just have to find me."

"And I promise _you_," Anita replied, "that I will find you."

"I know. How could you not—at the very least, you can locate my ego. I'll most likely be at the center," Skulduggery joked.

"Indeed," Anita laughed, and then she kissed him lightly. When they broke apart, she whispered, "I'm coming home, my love."

"I know," he whispered back. His voice still sometimes sent a tingle down her spine, and it did then.

"You know, you'll have to bury me," she told him.

"I know that, too. But would you show me? Maybe I'll remember that. Maybe I'll remember this. It's worth it," he muttered back.

And then he was standing on a dock, watching as Anita, a white flame beneath her skin, was set onto a boat, and L put a white flower on her chest. This time, rain fell quietly. That was a new detail, but all the rest was familiar. And so he watched as Anita was sent down the river.

The dream ended. Anita had a tear down one cheek. Skulduggery reached out and wiped it away—she almost never cried in her world, almost always it was in his.

"Don't cry," he commanded. "You should be happy. You're going to Ireland. Please tell me you'll be happy."

"I will be. I promise, I'll be happy—when I go to Ireland, I won't have a choice," Anita promised.

Her mother called, and Anita turned to go. Before she could slip away, Skulduggery called after her softly. "Anita?" She turned, and he continued, "When you get there, say my name. Call me to you—I'll always come to your call."

"I'll be sure to call you, then," she thought to him, and he picked the thought up easily. He had enough time to see her smile, her tears of joy, and then she slipped away from his grasp.

And he forgot everything.

**A/N: Oh noes, Skulduggery forgot! *gasp* So no, Anita will not have any company from her otherworld, Fastreena, while she's on the ship. But she'll be stuck with her parents so it's all cool.**

**I don't know if her parents ever knew…how sad. Ah, well. If you are new to my writing, and you liked this, please go read **_**A World Unknown**_** (Soon to become **_**A World Lost**_**), the fanfiction to which this is a prequel. **

**Did you like it? Review, lovelies!**


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